Thursday, March 31, 2005

A little background:

I began my clinical training in St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands. It was divine. I loved every second of our lives there. Mitch flew smaller planes for different Major Airline, and I went with him on his trips to St. Lucia, Grenada, Aruba, Tortola, and other similarly hideous places. When I wasn’t traveling, I was delivering babies. We lived in a house on the ocean and I saw dolphins and whales from my porch. I swam everyday in a heart-shaped bay whose name I share. To say that life was perfect is an understatement.
9/11 happened. The airline industry tanked.
We left paradise and moved to a small liberal city in the midwest, where I finished my clinical training. I had amazing experiences in this part of the country, including lots of Amish births and meeting the women who would shape my character as a midwife and as a woman.
When I finished my clinical training we moved to a small ultra liberal city in the north Midwest, where I began my midwifery practice and we continued to try to have a child. We loved this city. We planned on staying there for the rest of our lives. I made the best friends I’ve ever had there. (More later about this)
When we had been in this city for one year, and 6 months after I had the ectopic, Mitch got hired by a different Major Airline. The pay would be better, his schedule would be better; he could stay at this airline until he retired.
Around this time I began questioning whether or not I could still be a midwife. I was beginning to resent some of my clients, the young, unmarried ones who got pregnant on accident and continued to smoke pot and ride motorcycles.
So, we moved. To a large conservative Southwest city(that we really don't like), with plans to stay here one year or maybe 2, until Mitch was able to commute back to the north Midwest city we love. We would pursue fertility testing and make treatment decisions, and I would figure out my professional life.

We have been here one year. Here is what we’ve figured out so far:

We’re going to do 4 IUI’s, with injectables. If they don’t work, we will wait 6 months (to repair our finances) then begin the adoption process.

I am a midwife. Deep in my soul and bones, I know this is true. But I can’t practice as a midwife right now. Maybe sometime in the future, when time or a child has healed me, but not now.


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